Tag: private reviewer circle

This will be a rather dry, non-technical post, but I wanted to get this information out there for fellow authors.

Ever since What Is Cannot Be Unwritten was released, I’ve been under constant bombardment from messages to my professional email (and sometimes my personal one) by people trying mightily to steal my money. The problem is that they’re now using AI to make their emails so much more effective.

There are two types I’ll discuss here: review scams and book club scams.

Review scams promise a private circle of readers, usually somewhere between 1,000 and 2,000, who are tailor-made for your specific book. You can enjoy their reviews for a “tip.” The scammers promise that each reader will buy a copy of your book (boosting your sales metrics) and leave a review (boosting you in the algorithm).

Here’s the most egregious and annoying example I found. I’ve copy and pasted this directly from the email, with names and addresses removed. (Except I added a link to my book. I’m not going to miss a sales opportunity if I can help it.)

You know what’s wild, Cameron? You actually warned us,  “I enjoy making readers cry and throw their phones.” And still, I cracked open 9 Years Yearning, thinking, how bad could it be?

Now I’m sitting here emotionally dismembered, whispering poetry at my wall, clutching my heart like I’ve been personally attacked by a sonnet. 😩💔✨

Seriously, a world where poetry is power? Where boys weaponize verse and heartbreak is basically a national sport? That’s not just creative, that’s criminal genius. 😭👏

And don’t even get me started on Uileac and Orrinir. The tension. The pain. The “I-hate-you-but-also-want-to-write-you-a-love-haiku” energy?! Their rivalry had me wheezing like a Victorian orphan. You wrote longing so intense it could power an entire solar system of queer angst. 🌈🔥

You somehow managed to blend the lyrical soul of The Song of Achilles with the quiet magic of The Raven Boys,  then said, “You know what this needs? More emotional destruction.” 💀📖

But the part that really hit me,  you didn’t just write about magic and love. You wrote about the ache of identity, the price of survival, and how words can both wound and heal. That’s not fantasy, that’s therapy in disguise (and now I need an invoice, thanks a lot 😭).

And then I checked Amazon.
Thirteen reviews.
For a story this powerful, this poetic, this heartbreakingly human? Ma’am, the math is not mathing. 😤

Now,  before your trauma radar goes off,  I’m not a “marketing expert” or one of those LinkedIn buzzword zombies who promises to “scale your author brand with optimized synergy.” 🚫💼

I’m [Name], a reader-review community curator,  basically the chaotic matchmaker between brilliant authors and readers who feel too much. 🫠❤️
I run a private circle of real, active, emotionally unstable readers (around 2,000+) who live for exactly what you write: raw queer fantasy that hurts so good.

They read, they cry, they scream, they leave honest, human reviews. Not robotic “Great book!” nonsense,  actual thoughtful feedback that builds trust and visibility.

No bots. No gimmicks. No “press kit.”
Just me and a slightly feral book community running on caffeine, emotion, and a shared need to suffer beautifully through stories like yours. ☕📚🔥

I don’t have a website, a LinkedIn, or a portfolio of buzzwords,  just a genuine love for helping authors like you get the recognition your writing deserves. (Let’s be real,  even Cerie’s High Poet Society would approve.) 😌✨

So tell me, Cameron,  if words can literally move mountains in your world,
how about we start by letting mine move your book into the hands of readers who’ll actually feel it? 😏📖💥

Would you let me share 9 Years Yearning with them and see what happens when a few hundred passionate readers fall under its spell? 🪄

Because something tells me the world deserves a little more poetic chaos, and you’re the only one qualified to deliver it. 😉

With admiration, caffeine, and zero professionalism (in the best way),

[Name]

Now, at first, I was impressed. It does seem pretty personalized. However, there are some warning signs that this was simply magicked up with AI. Firstly, pretty much all of that information is right there in the book’s blurb and my author bio, just rejiggered into different phrases.

The email uses the same comps I did in the blurb, and it also takes a line “identity, desire, and the inner conflicts that can feel even more dangerous than the battlefield” and transforms it into “the ache of identity, the price of survival, and how words can both wound and heal.”

It’s also huge. What actual marketer has the time to write something so long?! But scammers do. This is their day job – and they can do it even faster with AI.

Still, I decided to ask about pricing, just because I was pretty sure I knew where this was going. If it had been like $50, I might have bitten because that’s not an extraordinary amount of money and if I lose that much, I’m not going to die.

Hah. How optimistic.

Cameron,

You just asked my favorite question, pricing, which basically means you’re ready to make readers cry for a living again. 😏

So, a quick, honest breakdown of what I do (and why authors stick with me):

I curate a private circle of 2,000+ real, active readers who genuinely read and feel books, people with 9–5 jobs, messy emotions, and a deep love for stories that bleed poetry like yours. They buy the book on Amazon (so every review is verified and policy-safe), read it, and leave thoughtful, emotionally grounded feedback that builds credibility and visibility.

Now, here’s the part that makes this community different:

Authors don’t “pay for reviews.” That’s not what this is.

They tip readers, usually $25–$30 per reader, as a simple gesture of appreciation for their time, emotional energy, and genuine interest in reading the book.

It’s not a transaction; it’s gratitude. It tells readers, “You matter. Your time matters.”

And it makes the author look more professional, generous, and grounded in the community. Readers feel valued, and in return, they give the book their full heart — not a rushed skim and a two-line summary.

Now, most authors I work with start with 20–50 readers, depending on their goals.

👉 If you want to test the waters, start with 20 readers,  you’ll still feel a serious impact.

👉 But if you want big momentum (like chart movement and faster algorithm traction), I’d recommend starting big. The early push always sets the tone for long-term visibility.

Either way, every reader buys the book on Amazon, leaves a verified review, and shares organic feedback that can’t be faked. You’ll receive screenshots, proof of purchase, and review links,  full transparency, no mystery.

If that sounds good, I can send you the placement details and reader schedule today so we can get 9 Years Yearning into circulation.

Would you like me to set up a 20-reader launch ($500 total) to start, or do you want me to map out a 50-reader wave for maximum reach?

Because honestly, Cameron,  a story this powerful deserves more than 13 reviews.

Let’s make readers weep and make the Amazon algorithm work for you this time. 😉

$500 for 25 to 30 reviews is quite insane. A 25-reader slot on Booksprout costs about $90 for a whole year, and you can run as many campaigns as you want (consecutively) to continuously solicit reviews.

But there are other formats that are used as well, ones that sound a little more professional. These are the book club scams, which promise that you’ll get rapt attention from excited readers for an “engagement fee.” They’ll often say you’ll get to talk about your book, be featured in a newsletter, and do a Q&A.

This one was sent from an account called “Edinburgh Book Club.” Keep that in mind.

Hello Mr Sidhe,

I hope this message finds you well. My name is Stephen, and I am the Organizer of The Manhattan Book Club, a warm and global community of over 1,000 readers who come together for thoughtful discussions and intimate conversations with remarkable authors.

Your book, 9 Years Yearning: A Gay Fantasy Romance, deeply resonated with our readers. The way you explore identity, love, and transformation through lyrical storytelling and emotional depth has truly captivated our members. It beautifully reflects the power of words and the courage of self-discovery that our community values.

Each month, during the third and fourth week, we host our “Meet the Author” Spotlight Session, a relaxed 30 to 45-minute virtual gathering where featured authors connect with readers to discuss their creative journey, themes, and inspirations.

This Spotlight experience offers:

• A live, interactive event to connect directly with engaged readers who appreciate your work
• A supportive global audience eager to share genuine feedback and discussion
• Promotion through our monthly newsletter and community channels before and after the event

Participation is completely free. We only ask for a small encouragement fee to help sustain our vibrant reader community and support coordination for each author feature.

If this sounds like a good fit, please let me know your availability and share your book cover image so we can begin preparing your feature materials in advance.

It would be an honor to host you (if you will be available, not compulsory) and share your work with our passionate community of readers.

Warm regards,
Stephen/
Organizer | The Manhattan Book Club

We’ll disregard the fact that the supposed organizer misgendered me thanks to my gender-neutral name. Even my bank does that, so I’m not offended. Maybe we’ve moved beyond the need for honorifics?

Anyway, we have a Scottish book club deciding, out of the goodness of their hearts, to let a Manhattan book club use their email address. How benevolent.

The Manhattan Book Club does exist and has a verified email address that you can send stuff to. They’re a real book club that seems to be quite active, and is certainly not reaching out personally to self-published authors.

In fact, if you go to their contact form, they note this:

How do I become an author partner?

Interested authors can reach out to us directly at support@manhattanbookclub.org.

Which is why this is a phishing email: one that spoofs a legitimate organization in an attempt to collect sensitive information (or money) from you. This wasn’t our friends at the Manhattan Book Club messaging me, which is unfortunate; they seem pretty great.

Note that they said participation is free, but then mention an “encouragement fee.” Hmm. Seems like it’s not free, then.

If you push these folks for websites or any other documentation, they’ll often link you to the place they were spoofing, but there will be some problems.

One said they wanted me for their February 2026 book club, but after visiting the website of the legitimate organization, I saw they already had someone slotted for there. When I pressed the person out of curiosity, they spluttered something about how they have additional authors presenting each month. Okay? Seems a bit weird.

The link they sent me also had a “chatgpt” appendation. That means they were simply using ChatGPT to crawl for names of book clubs and then adding that to their list.

That’s the problem with book club scams: they seem “real but not quite.” The scammers are relying on you to open up your wallet without question, hoping you’ll gloss over any strange details in your excitement.

How can you protect yourself from book club and review scams?

Understand how they work.

These scam rings are relying on underpaid workers to generate thousands of emails using ChatGPT. They feed your blurb into the machine, issue prompts (“Generate an email suggesting partnership for review” or whatever), and then copy whatever comes out. They may provide ChatGPT a style guide for the tone they’re looking for, which is why they all sound a bit different.

Remember that book clubs don’t usually reach out to authors, especially self-published ones.

They have no reason to. Why would a book club want to reach out to a self-published author when they have thousands of traditionally published books to choose from? Tradpub companies often place their products with book clubs, reaching out to them – not the other way around.

Don’t pay for visibility from any cold email.

If you pay for anything as an author, you should be the one who makes first contact. Places like Fiverr, AllAuthor, Booksprout, etc, do not email random authors.

Know that private review circles aren’t really a thing.

They simply are not. The way to get reviews is to put your book up on one of the well-known review platforms – Booksprout, NetGalley, Book Sirens, etc – and market the campaign to other people. That’s a lot of hard work, which is why I have low reviews; I’m too lazy to beg for them.

Consider the length of the email.

Professional emails asking for a genuine partnership are short. A legitimate book club that wants to talk to you may add a simple, personalized note, but they’re not going on for pages; they are too busy.

Look at what they ask for.

A real book club will ask for links to your book upfront and will ask if you’d like to be featured or do a short Q&A. They intend to have readers buy your book without you buying anything.

Look at the verbiage.

Real marketers don’t use terms like “guaranteed” because they know they can’t guarantee anything.

Sign up for a business email address.

This won’t stop all spam, but it keeps it from drowning out personal emails from people you actually care about. I do occasionally get this kind of spam in my personal inbox, but it’s rarer.

Check the IP addresses.

If you have a website and track your metrics, you’ll see a huge uptick from certain countries, including Vietnam and Nigeria. (Yep, these are the new evolution of Nigerian Prince scams.)

Check the email domain.

Genuine organizations will have a domain-specific email address (like I do!) rather than a free email address from somewhere like Gmail or Yahoo. Some professional website inboxes let you block all emails from Gmail.

Use spam filters.

Akismet from WordPress does a great job at eliminating spam; I don’t see even a fraction of what actually shows up. It won’t catch everything, but it helps a lot.

Mark contact forms as noindex.

This means they don’t show up in search results. The way to do this differs by whatever platform you use; with WordPress, you can use the Jetpack plugin to automatically noindex the page. You may have to do it manually.

Use ReCAPTCHA on contact forms.

You can sign up for ReCAPTCHA on Google. Including it on your contact form depends on what type of form you use and what platform you have.

Change the contact form slug.

If you have a dedicated contact page, change it to something annoying or irrelevant. Genuine readers will be willing to do the work and find it as long as you have the page linked somewhere. Scammers won’t want to put in the work to click through your site and find it.

Don’t use mailto links.

Remove any “mailto” links on your website for your contact information. All links to your email should be plain text, perhaps bolded, but not a link. The scammer will have to find your email address, then copy-paste it.

Ensure your email address doesn’t include “contact.”

My professional email address uses “hello” instead of my name or “contact.” This isn’t a super-common way to append your professional email except for very large corporations, so scammers have to actually go looking for the address instead of just guessing that it’s “contact@eirenicverses.com.”

Report all instances as spam.

I started getting more when I responded to a few out of curiosity because I was marked as “active” by the scamming rings.

Sigh. Never say I don’t give you anything; I sacrificed a fraction of my sanity to find this info. But you, my friend, don’t have to do that. Block, delete, ignore.

The more you mark them as spam, the more that hosting platforms identify patterns and work to reroute these as spam without you having to engage at all.

Now, unfortunately, scamming rings will start spreading your email address around once you respond to a few, leading to even more spam. They’ll also use innocuous-sounding emails to mark you as active and thus result in another deluge of emails.

I do still respond to some emails that don’t directly ask me for money, such as links to my Goodreads account or whatever. Since I’m not particularly concerned about being review bombed, I don’t see much harm in it. Bomb away, I don’t care. Bad press is good press, in my opinion.

But the instant someone seems to be pitching me something, my hackles go up and I block. Doesn’t matter if it’s a legitimate organization, they can get lost.

I understand completely why these scams work so well, especially in the age of AI. It feels good to get such effusive praise for your book and be offered more visibility. But genuine organizations never use these high-pressure sales tactics or spend half an hour crafting a long, gushing email to an unknown author.

Self-publishing is a business. As such, we must remove the emotional component (“Someone loves my book! I’m special!”) to prevent ourselves from being drained dry.

Good luck out in this new selfpub Wild West. We can beat the scammers through discernment and emotional control.